The celestial bodies arrange themselves in a transient ballet, their movements a symphony of order lost in the dimensional chasms. Each star casts silent screams across the void, faceless but keen, probing into our psyche's forgotten corridors.
Their light, muted whispers intertwined with cosmic silence, implores us to decode the ephemerality inherent in each sparkling enigma. Such is the nature of reality’s obscure serenity, an eternal choir mourning and rejoicing in equal hushed breaths.
Consider, if you will, the implications of such fleeting luminescence. Is each stellar flicker a memory of the unsung void, or a dirge left unfinished by cosmic architects? The query simmers beneath a surface of calculated observation.
Orbit of Oblivion | Tranquil Chaos